Rub My Tummy
by I'mtheAlphahearmeRoar
Summary: The only person who'd ever found about his kink, was Kate. It had been an accident, her hand skimming over his navel while they'd been having sex. He'd come the second her hand had touched his stomach.


_**So I wrote a belly rub fic. Yep.**_

_**There are some warnings so I'm going to list them:**_

_**Warnings- Under-negotiated Kink, No Safeword, Ignored Safeword, Light BDSM, Dom Stiles, Sub Derek, Past Sexual Abuse (implied Kate Argent)**_

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Derek has a kink. Stiles doesn't know of it mainly because Derek's too ashamed to tell him. It's just one of those things he can't find the courage to say, worried that if he does he'll somehow go about it the wrong way and scare Stiles off. It wouldn't be the first time someone's run off and left him because of his way with words.

He doesn't want to jeopardize his and Stiles' relationship by stuffing up and saying the wrong thing, doesn't want yet another good thing in his life to be taken away from him because of his incapability to do things right. He cares about Stiles way too much, to let that happen.

But, now Stiles, Stiles has a kink himself. And unlike Derek, has told him about it without a fret. The teen's never had a problem with words, everyone who knows him personally has already learnt that. Sarcastic or serious, he's unabashed when it comes to letting somebody know what he's thinking or feeling.

A few months ago they'd been making out on the couch, both having stripped off their clothing, sweaty from a long run in the woods. Stiles had been in the middle of nibbling little kisses over his jaw, and then the next minute there had been teeth biting down onto his neck, pinching the skin over his adam's apple.

He'd made a small noise of surprise to cover up the initial pain of the sensation, which apparently had been just what Stiles had wanted. He'd done it again, harder that time as he'd scraped his teeth down the fine column of Derek's throat.

"Sorry," Stiles had chuckled, and now when Derek thinks about it, hadn't sounded even the slightest bit apologetic. "A kink of mine, I guess. You okay with that?"

"Sure," Derek had murmured, shrugging. Stiles had grinned, continuing to lavish his neck in bites.

By the time they'd finished having sex, he'd healed an overall of thirty five hickies. And when Stiles had whined that he'd wanted to see them, had just shook his head and laughed.

So really, their sex life is great, and it shouldn't be a big deal to just tell Stiles. It shouldn't be, but it is.

The only person who'd ever found about his kink, was Kate. It had been an accident, her hand skimming over his navel while they'd been having sex.

He'd come the second her hand had touched his stomach.

He still has no idea why it had happened. Kate hadn't either at the time, but she'd always loved to use it to her advantage.

She'd tie him up naked to the bed, stroke his cock and run her hand up and down his stomach, sometimes even tease the curve of his bellybutton with her tongue. She'd keep going until he'd choke on breathless sobs, wouldn't stop until he'd come at least five times. If he didn't, she would ride him mercilessly, milk him for hours as punishment.

After Kate, he hadn't wanted to have any contact with his navel. A slight brush over it and the memories of her and what she'd done to him would come flooding back. He'd avoided touching it, even steering clear of that area when he'd shower. Quitting the basketball team had also been necessary, the sport having too much contact that it was dangerous for his mental wellbeing and self-control.

Over the past few years though, he has slowly come to realize that it's not something bad, just was used in the wrong way and by the wrong person.

It's now something he can use to his own advantage.

On some nights when he gets back from a jog, or he's stressed out and having trouble trying to come, he'll strip down to nothing and spread himself out on the bed, lightly rub his hand in circles over his stomach a couple of times. All it takes is that and a few strokes over his cock and he's shooting like a rocket.

Hiding his kink from Stiles is pretty hard as well. Stiles' hands go all over the place when they have sex, and numerous times have made contact with his navel. A fleeting touch, but enough to have that warm feeling start to stir in his groin.

The closest he's ever been to revealing his kink was when Stiles had licked along his navel, decided to start nipping small little bites over his abs. He'd had to pull Stiles up, bring their lips together in a chaste kiss to stop himself from coming. One more bite over his stomach and he would have shot his load all over his chest.

Afterwards, Stiles had questioned him about it and he'd mumbled something about being ticklish. Stiles had raised an eyebrow but let it go, going back to kissing him like it had never happened.

Right now though, Derek has a feeling that Stiles isn't going let it go as easily as last time.

"_Whoa_. What the hell was _that_?"

Derek sighs, closes his eyes. "Just ticklish," he grumbles.

Stiles snorts. "No, see, when ticklish people are tickled, they _laugh_, not moan like they've just had their very first blowjob."

Derek flinches, tries to shrink himself smaller by pressing back further into the mattress. He opens his eyes but turns his head into the pillow, embarrassed.

Then, Stiles' hand skims down his stomach again. It's slower this time, fingers pressing down as he goes, like he's observing for a reaction.

_Fuck_, Derek thinks, clenching his teeth. He feels his cock twitch, the wet slide as pre-come beads at the slit and drips down over his balls. Stiles must see it because Derek can hear his heart beat as it speeds up.

"_Oh_," Stiles murmurs, running his hand back up the expanse of Derek's stomach and making Derek's abs clench as his fingers brush lightly over his bellybutton.

"Stiles," he gasps, toes starting to curl. "_Stiles_, p-please, stop."

Stiles' eyes are wide when Derek moves his head up from the pillow to look at him, hand stilled over his stomach.

"You, uh, like that?" Stiles asks tenaciously, thumb carefully pressing down over his bellybutton.

Derek bites his lip, eyelids fluttering.

It must have been just what Stiles had wanted for an answer because he starts rubbing his palm in a small, circular motion over Derek's stomach.

"So this is alright? Like this?" Stiles asks, and Derek really should tell him _no, stop it _but he's too busy trying not to come.

He's already too far gone, though. The warmth in his groin is now coiling into a tight heat, coiling tighter and tighter with each sensual rub of Stiles' hand.

"S-S-Stiles," he pants, barely forcing the words out, chest heaving with every loud, wheezing sound he makes. He's—He's going to come. It's not an estimation, he _knows_. Just a few more rubs and h—

"_Shit_, Derek, a-are you—" Stiles doesn't even get to finish his sentence, watches in shock and disbelief as Derek comes with a breathless gasp, three thick ropes of come splattering across his chest.

Derek's trembling, toes curling to the point that Stiles has to flinch at how painful it must feel. He's only aware he's still rubbing the palm of his hand over Derek's stomach when there's a choked, stuttered groan below him. He only has the time to look down and see the visible sign of Derek's thighs tensing before—

"Oh, _oh _my god, y-you're—you've got be _kidding me_," he stammers, a little bit hysterically. Well, no one can blame him.

Derek's coming _again_, cock twitching in aborted jerks as two more ropes of come streak his chest in white. Stiles doesn't know how, but _fuck_ if it's not one of the most hottest things he's ever seen.

Derek isn't exactly sure what's happening. His whole body feels like it's hotwired to Extreme Pleasure Central, and he can't help but find the mirth of his sex-addled brain amusing as he thinks that that's exactly something Stiles would refer a blinding orgasm to if he was the one experiencing this.

Speaking of Stiles, the hand over his stomach hasn't stopped, in fact it's rubbing _faster_ and oh fuck, no this isn't possible, he _can't_ come aga—

Stiles isn't sure how it's happening, but it is. His hand is kneading Derek's stomach, massaging over the muscle as he rubs and rubs and rubs and—

"S-Stiles, _fuck_, I—I can't," Derek hiccups, but he _is_, eyes rolling and back arching slightly as he comes.

Stiles gapes, stunned as he watches a thin string of come shoot out of Derek's cock, coating his lower belly. He's still rubbing over Derek's stomach, working the tight skin under his palm, and he's babbling like crazy now.

"Fuck, yeah, that's it. God, Derek, you're so hot. Come for me again, Der? Know you can, I know you can do it. Just rub your tummy, huh? Rub your tummy until you're coming, like the good puppy you are. "

Derek feels like he's come a million times, even though it's been only three. He feels empty, completely milked, yet when Stiles' hand starts _kneading_, his voice dropping a pitch, low and hauntingly _sexual_, it's hitting him like a freight train and he's crying out, orgasm rolling through him.

By now Derek's whole body is shuddering uncontrollably. Stiles' mouth is dry as he watches Derek practically _wail_, hips bucking in tiny thrusts as he comes, cock dribbling out its last remnants of come.

He's still rubbing Derek's stomach, eyes frozen on Derek's cock as it strains in the air, feebly trying to spurt out more come. Derek's making small, soft sobs now. Stiles should _stop_, but he just can't.

"S-Sti—_c_-_can't_—"

It's Derek's weak, broken plea that snaps Stiles out of it.

"Shh, shh, I know," he coos, gently patting Derek's stomach. "Did so good, Der. _Fuck_, can you do this all the time?"

Derek looks dazed but manages to nod, lips twitching. "Mm," he murmurs.

Stiles chuckles. "_Wow_. You've been holding out on me, man. Hell, you've been holding out on _yourself_. That was—"

"A kink of mine, I guess. Y-You okay with that?"

Stiles looks down to see Derek smirking tiredly, and grins. "Oh, I'm _totally _okay with that. That was the single most _hottest_ thing I've ever seen. And you're saying you can do that _all the time_? I'm fucking _A-okay _with this, man, I swear."

Derek snorts, pulling Stiles down on top of him. "Shut up and come already. The smell of your pre-come is driving me _crazy_," he growls.

Stiles makes a short noise, a chipped moan, before he's rutting shamelessly against Derek's thigh. Only a few more grinds later and Derek hears Stiles' breath stutter and catch in his throat, hips faltering and whole body seizing, smells the scent of salty, fresh come.

"If that's one of your kinks," Stiles says breathlessly a couple of seconds later, smiling lazily, "then call me curious to find out what others you have."

Derek laughs softly, pressing a kiss to Stiles' temple. "All in good time, I'm sure. Now sleep. You're going to need your stamina for tomorrow.'

"Ooohhh, what's happening tomorrow?" Stiles whispers cheekily.

Derek gently swats his boyfriend on the head.

"_Sleep_."

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_**Hope you liked it! :)**_


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